


The Fall

by ohlookmywife



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26088052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlookmywife/pseuds/ohlookmywife
Summary: A new twitter friend had a sex dream and half a dozen of us offered to use it as a prompt.You're welcome?
Relationships: Freakytits
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	The Fall

Joan Ferguson is seated on the edge of her bed, pristine posture, reading Milton’s Paradise Lost in such a way as to avoid breaking the binding. One long elegant index finger deftly turns a page as the door to her cell opens, and her former deputy leans in the frame.

“May I help you, Vera?” she asks without so much as moving anything but a single brow.

“I gather you think you’re quite clever?”

“I have no idea what you’re referring t-“

“Another letter.” Vera says, her tongue landing behind her teeth, smug and annoyed.

“That was meant to be posted.“

“The audacity. Honestly, Joan, I’m incredulous. Has this poor young man not suffered enough? You have no right to be reaching out to him. No right.”

“Vera, you – “

“Certainly it’s not lost on you that his mother would be alive today were it not for-“

“Stop right there.” Joan says, in a tone that could halt a runaway train car.

“You, Joan. You.” Vera says, pointing at her with the envelope.

Joan swallows hard.

“I wouldn’t if I were you, Vera.”

“It’s Governor.” Vera answers, drawing upon every bit of resolve she can manage.

Joan is silent.

“- and the idea that you would think that there actually existed something between you and this-“ Vera is drunk on the power she’s wielding - mocking, deriding.

“That’s enough, Vera.“ Joan warns

“This INMATE, who was, frankly, -“

“That’s enough.” Joan bellows, rising from her place on the bed and pinning Vera in her shadow against the cinderblock wall in once swift motion.

A moment passes.

“Joan –“ Vera cautions, swallowing hard and letting her mouth fall open as she takes a deep breath, “I will give you the professional courtesy – “

“Professional courtesy –,“ she hisses, “– that’s rich.”

“-of not being **F** orcibly,” she lisps over the word, “removed from this cell for insubordination if-“

“If what.” Joan asks, an eyebrow raised, leaning closer, her knee pushing between Vera’s thighs

“You –“ Her breath catches, like scratched vinyl.

“Oh, Vera, you’re so transparent.”

“It’s Gov -,” she husks out, her core tightening, her words lost as Joan leans in further.

“Is this what you wanT?” she whispers, waiting not even one second before hoisting Vera up and slamming her down onto the vanity.

Vera’s wrists brace as her small frame is thrown onto the sink, her back smashed up against its reflection. Her legs writhing helplessly, like she’s furiously treading water, as Joan hikes her skirt up her thighs.

Vera’s fingers fumble over the buttons up the breast of her blazer as Joan leans into the crook of her neck and inhales deeply. Vera arches her back and turns her head to give greater access to her neck.

“Do you want it?” 

The antennae of the radio on Vera’s utility belt prods into her hip, as she fervently works to unclip the buckle, letting it fall, clattering on the floor.

At this, Joan steps back, and eyes her, all exposed nerves and pleading body. She slowly bends and picks up the belt, placing it with care on the prison issued sleep mat, immaculately made, hospital corners.

In these seconds, Vera sobers, feeling incredibly exposed, panicked, like she’s made an enormous misstep. But with Joan’s attention back to her, her hips squarely between Vera’s knees, Vera arches her back desperately trying to close the gap.

“You are so predicTable, Vera.”

“Prisoner Ferguson - ” Vera attempts, but at this Joan only laughs, a dark throaty chuckle.

“Yes, Vera?”

“Jo-“

“You’re so easy, Vera. So needy-“ she says, sliding her hand up Vera’s taut thigh and slowing as she reaches her underwear, curling her fingers into a fist and brushing her knuckles against the drenched cotton.

“Look at you, Vera,” she tsks, “you’re throbbing with need.”

Joan tilts her chin up and looks down her nose at Vera, eyes tight shut, feverishly wetting her lips, baring her throat despite herself, as Joan jerks the fabric aside.

“Sooo” she hisses, drawing out the vowel, “-insecure,” she says, sliding a finger inside, as Vera’s neck reels.

Joan purses her lips as she looks down at Vera, riding her hand, glowing.  
She dismisses the thought, as a small sneer passes over her face.

She pumps harder into Vera’s bucking hips, thumb brushing against aching clit, as she hikes her own left thigh up over the edge of sink.  
Vera's thigh is draped over her own as she slides her free arm around Vera's back, pulling her harder, deeper, into her.

“Sooo,” she pushes another finger inside her, “desperate.”

Vera’s left foot flexes and her heel falls to the floor.

“Your want makes you weak, Vera.”

“I –“

“And emotions… lead to mistakes.”

“I –“

Joan leans back, mouth open, regarding Vera and her loosened tendrils, perspiration forming on her eternally worried brow, the crown of her head against the glassless mirror.  
  


A raised eyebrow, a smug smile creeping across Joan’s face.

“What is that, Vera?”

“I – I –“

“You – you,” she says taunting, growing agitated.

“I –“

“Spit it out, Vera.”

Vera’s right hand frees itself from the lip of the vanity and takes hold of the loose sweatshirt over Joan’s left shoulder, her fingers clenching, bunching the fabric. She leans forward and hunches over Joan’s strong forearm, her twitching fingers gripping it as Joan slides a third finger into her.

“- oh god, almo-“ her body slumps as Joan pulls out and takes a step back.

A small moment passes before Vera realizes she’s been robbed.

She lifts her head off the mirror, as Joan raises her right arm, sleeve pushed up to her elbow, fingers slick and wet, and points directly to the door of the cell, “Get out. Now.”

Vera is so disheveled and dazed, eyes scanning the room and all the space behind her eyes, not sure what is happening.

Joan shoos her off the vanity, and Vera shuffles herself off the sink, leaving a slick trail that elicits a silent, disgusted snarl from Joan.

Landing on one stockinged foot, Vera begins searching for her other shoe as Joan washes her hands and up her arms like a surgeon scrubbing in.

Collecting her belt from the bed and turning, Vera catches her mussed reflection behind Joan in the mirror. Joan’s face is emotionless, her eyes focused on scrubbing away any trace of Vera.

“What I’d always admired about you, Vera...” She says, unfolding a piece of cloth and swabbing down the countertop, removing any suggestion of impropriety.

Vera swallows.

“Your ability to recognize the humanity in the women, these inmates. I believe we both shared a common philosophy when it came to correcTions, but I suppose I was wrong.”

  
  
Vera looks down at the floor.

“I expected more from you, Vera. I’m disappointed.”

Vera nods and tucks a single stray curl behind her ear. “Yes.”

Joan folds the cloth back into a neat square and hands it to her.

Vera recognizes it as her own handkerchief and swallows again, this time in an effort to quell the rising acid as she’s overcome with the guilt and humility of every transgression she has ever made. She weakly accepts the damp piece of cloth.

“You may go, Vera.”

Joan retrieves her book and dusts a hand over the place on her bed where Vera’s belt had lay.

“And Vera?”

Vera turns wordlessly, cowed, and confused.

“I expect from now on you will be posting my letters.”

Vera nods and turns slowly, buckling her belt and straightening her skirt.

"Oh, and one more thing."

Vera looks back.

"Close the door behind you," she instructs, turning her attention back to her book, with the sound of latch sliding into striker plate.

**Author's Note:**

> A new twitter friend had a sex dream and half a dozen of us offered to use it as a prompt.  
> You're welcome?


End file.
